Breathe Again
by Rasf
Summary: Jace just arrived at the New York Institute. His life is drastically changing from living with his father to living in the Institute. How will things change? How will he change? Angel knows. Except, there's that little detail that in a few years, he will meet Clary and his life will change again. Rated T but may change due to language or content.
1. Arrival

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI characters, just the plot line I am creating!**

_Music inspired for this chapter:__When You Can't Sleep At Night by Of Mice & Men; My Understandings by Of Mice & Men_

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"Do I have to share my room?" an annoyed voice asks, probably the voice of Maryse's son, Alec, unless Isabelle had the voice of a boy which wasn't all that likely.

"No, Alec, the Institute has many unoccupied rooms meaning you won't have to share yours." Maryse's placating tone floated into Jonathan's ears as he stood outside of the Institute's library, luggage in hand and eyes glued to the pristinely maintained floor. It wasn't like he was purposely trying to listen to their conversations, but Maryse told him to stand by the door, so he moved in front of it, having no real desire to stand _by_ the door rather than _in front _of it.

"Okay." Alec muttered.

"Mom?" this voice was distinctly that of a girl. Jonathan knew that Alec was slightly older than he while Isabelle was slightly younger, therefore he knew that was Isabelle talking, "Is it true that his father died?"

At that, Jonathan flinched.

Two days ago, though it seemed like it was all but a moment ago, Jonathan witnessed the murder of his father. No matter how hard he tried to suppress the vivid memories they continued to taunt him, invading his senses and threw him back into that day to relive the horror over and over again. Images rose up behind his eyelids and he visibly recoiled from them, pain searing through his veins.

_Shouts echoed down the halls and chased them as his father pulled Jonathan through the darkly lit hallways. His father had pressed a witchlight into his palm and told him to keep it with him no matter what but not to call forth its light. In his other hand was dagger from his father's collection that hung over the chimney in the library. The blade was finely sharpened and gleamed as the moonlight bounced from the metal and casted lights across the tile as they ran; their pursuers dangerously close behind them._

"_This way, Jonathan." His father hissed impatiently, seraph blade blazing from the hilt securely gripped in his hand._

_Jonathan pivoted his foot and turned right into the adjacent hallway, running in front of his father. His ears pricked when the sound of splitting wood, most likely from the elaborate paintings that hung in the hallway walls were thrown down onto the tile, enveloped them. Michael pushed Jonathan forward in indication that he needed to run faster. Jonathan's legs burned in the familiar way they would when he trained. Adrenaline pumped heatedly through his veins and air rushed into and out of his lungs every second he ran, and every second he pushed himself further, faster, demanding his legs to continue on without fault. _

_Up ahead, Jonathan could see the outlining of the common room's windows meaning they were close to the entrance, or in this case, the exit-_

"_Round the corner and cut him off in the front!" A deep voice rumbled behind them before the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. They were going to surround them. _

_Jonathan's heart sped and he looked around wildly for a door even though he knew there was none, only the exit in front and the windows in the back of the hall they were currently in._

"_Jonathan," His father whispered behind them, pulling him by the collar towards the staircase, "you must hide here." He lifted a secret door from behind the staircase and shoved Jonathan forward._

"_No!" Jonathan protested, seeing there was not nearly enough space for him, let alone his father and him._

"_Do not argue with me." Even now his father's voice was cold and demanding._

_His father's hand clamped down on his shoulder and he felt the pressure strengthen there as he was pushed down into a laying position. He looked up, golden eyes meeting his father's cold ones and he fought the urge to cry that welled up within his throat. His father crouched in front of him, his head turning as the sound of footsteps intensified. With a lithe movement, his father pulled off the silver band from his finger, the one he always wore and gave it to Jonathan._

"_Continue on our legacy, son." With that, he closed the compartment. _

_Jonathan clutched the ring as though it were the air he needed to live. He calmed his breathing and focused on listening; closing his eyes for the darkness he resided in was too much to bear. The darkness reminded him of where he was and why he was there. His surroundings grew eerily silent and, for some reason he could not explain, Jonathan felt hope bud to life within his chest. Perhaps his father found a save location to hide out as well, though it didn't seem likely. His father was not one for hiding. _

_With determination, Jonathan turned onto his stomach, making her to produce no noise then softly lifted his head up to look through the crack his father left for air to enter the box. In front of the stairs stood his father, determination blaring in his eyes while the seraph blade lit the area with light, enough light to show the two men who approached him._

"_How dare you come into my home and chase me around like a pitiful rabbit." His father said with nerve wracking calmness in his voice._

"_Wayland, we gave you a time and you didn't come through." One of the men said, stepping forward. _

_Jonathan clutched his dagger tighter wanting nothing more than to leap from the box and chase them men out. _

"_Now we have to go through with our warning," the other man said, running his seraph blade through his father's chest._

_Jonathan clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from shouting out but in that second, he felt his heart shatter. The air was dense around him and he couldn't breathe, the world was spinning and he grew feint, dizzy even before the darkness tainted his vision and the last thing he was were the lifeless eyes of his father as he fell to the floor…_

"Jonathan?" Marsye's voice felt like a fading dream; so far away, and too distant to reach.

Jonathan jumped back lightly, his mind being slammed back into the present and he stared up into Marsye's dark eyes, blinking for a second before wiping all emotion from his face.

"Hm?" Jonathan arched a lazy brow, eyes still on Marsye's.

"You can come in now." She said, matching his raised brow with her own and sighing when he didn't move.

Turning to move back into the library herself, Jonathan took a deep breath and exhaled. He needed to keep himself together. He needed to stop thinking about his father's death because doing so would get him nowhere. And even though he did not intend to find a replacement to his father within the walls of the Institute, he did intend to fulfill his father's last request.

_Continue our legacy, son_.

And that was exactly what he was going to do. He would train harder than anyone ever had, he would prove to be the best Shadowhunter the world had ever seen and he would never let anyone else die in front of his very eyes.

Never again.

With that, Jonathan walked into the library and stopped in front of a boy, a girl, and a smaller boy: Alec, Isabelle, and Max Lightwood. These were the people he would spend the following years with; these were the people he would need to protect even if he didn't get close to them because it was now his obligation to do so.

"Alec, Isabelle," Marsye began, "this is-"

"Jace," Jonathan interrupted. He no longer wanted to be known as Jonathan for that would only bring the memories of his father fluttering back into his mind, "My name is Jace Wayland."


	2. When You Can't Sleep At Night

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the TMI series, that includes the characters and locations. What I DO own is the story line.**

_Music inspiration for this chapter:__ Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine; Dead Hearts by Stars; Breath of Life by Florence + The Machine_

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|_Three Weeks Later_|

Beads of sweat rolled down Jace's perfectly bare back, curving along the dip in his torso near his hips before a black towel removed the sweat with a clean, swift movement. It was past midnight but Jace couldn't bear to close his eyes for a second because he knew what that would entail, he knew that if he allowed himself to sleep he would relive the horror of _that_ day. He couldn't anticipate when he would finally get a decent night's sleep but he knew perfectly well today wouldn't be that day.

A quick flick of his wrists and the towel went soaring across the room only to land perfectly against the gymnastic equipment he suggested they add to the training room, assuring Marsye that it would help improve posture and balance because even though they had runes for that, it was still better to not depend solely on them. Three weeks of living in the Institute improved Jace's outlook on, well, people in general. He found that no one was as determined as he was to train and learn about weaponry or how to properly slay demons. Sure, Alec and Isabelle seemed eager enough to pay attention most of the time, but Jace on the other hand was always completely immersed in his training and studies.

Of course, studying and training was all Jace really knew. His father ensured that. Every day was a new language, a new strategy, and a new concept. There wasn't such a thing as 'wasting time' with his father and Jace made sure what he learned all of his life wouldn't be in vain. Jace _would _be the finest and most equip Shadowhunter of his generation. He would see to it.

Jace walked over towards a table, his hand grazing the metal of a bow before picking it up and slung the arrows onto his right shoulder. Minutes later, Jace stood with his arm outstretched, firmly holding the bow and lithely shooting arrows across the way, watching as each arrow hit its destination. Time continued to pass rapidly as he moved from tactic to tactic, listening to the sounds of New York nightlife. This was nothing compared to the silence of the house he grew up in. Here, cars drove by at every hour of the day, lights bounced into almost every nook and cranny of the city, and people roamed the grounds in search for a variety of things.

Hours passed and Jace could see the orange haze that mingled with the darkness of the night sky.

Dawn.

Once again, he spent the entire night training and later on, when his body could take no more, he would crash against his bed in exhaustion and welcome the dark nothingness his mind would produce instead of dreams or nightmares with opened arms. At that thought, the seriousness between Jace's eyebrows relaxed and he sighed, pulling on his black shirt while placing everything in its rightful place. He hated messes, they were uncontrollable and sloppy and Jace would not stand for it. With that said Jace tossed his sweat matted towel into the hamper and padded down the hall towards his room.

Before reaching his room, a slight wind surrounded him, pulling him out of his own head long enough to look around and search for the source of it. Jace's golden eyes blazed and he reached for the blade at his belt, he couldn't help it, it was a habit, and then walked forward again. His eyes slowly moved over every room door, examining for any signs of being open or cracked. To his immediate knowledge, the only people who resided in the Institute at the moment were Marsye, Robert, Alec, Isabelle, Max, Hodge, and Church the cat and he knew that they were all asleep. Well…all of the _humans_ were asleep.

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle when his eyes landed on parted door. The chuckled died in his throat and he pushed the door fully open with the tip of his blade, the muscles on his shoulders and back now visibly tense. Jace felt no immediate sense of danger as he stepped through the threshold and peered into the room. Light poured into the room through an open window, which explained the breeze he felt earlier but as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Placed in front of him, right smack dab in the middle of the room, was a massive white piano. The light that poured into the room danced off of the well maintained case. How he hadn't found this room before was a mystery to him but he guessed he hadn't really been looking until that moment. Along with various amounts of book studies Jace performed throughout his days with his father, he also mastered the art of music, specifically, the piano. So many instruments to choose from when his father first mentioned the need to learn his way around an instrument and he chose the piano.

Without realizing it Jace found himself sitting at the piano, lifting the case to reveal the beautiful keys. The piano, he found, was one of the more elaborate but simple ways of expressing the soul. Its essence mingled with the essence of the pianist and forged a peaceful companionship. Jace gingerly lifted his hands to hover over the cold ivory keys while his slim fingers pressed lightly against them. Beneath his hand Jace could feel the vibrations travel down the cords and produce sound that echoed around the room.

Then, before he knew it, Jace was playing; he was creating music he didn't know he could create. The song intensified and grew, expanded in the air and spiraled around him. It pulled him into the world he knew, it expressed the heaviness that froze over his heart. Every ounce of emotion he suppressed leaked into the song and he was almost sure that he could see the notes dance in the air around him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Jace's eyes closed as the song came to an end and he played the notes of his soul. Jace wasn't sure how long he played, but finally, the song ended and as the final cord's sound hung in the air, Jace let his head hang over the keys. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel like he was drowning in his own body. He felt at peace and that surprised him.

How could he feel at peace? How was that even possible?

It wasn't, he knew it wouldn't last, but for the moment, Jace reveled in the silence within himself, inhaling and exhaling slowly. The memories he fought to forget and lock away within the deep recesses of his mind poured freely into his consciousness. Images skipped behind his eyelids and jumped at him, but for the first time since his father was killed, Jace felt in control. He knew what he needed to feel and he felt it, nothing more, nothing less.

Of course, the pain of his father's death didn't leave, how could it? But for the first time since it happened Jace knew exactly what to do and how to act. His behavior wouldn't change; it would be the same as it has been this long for he knew that was his natural personality, but now it wouldn't be forced. Now, Jace knew exactly what do and say as he would have before the incident. No longer was Jace lost in the deepest parts of himself.

In this moment, Jace who he was again.

He knew, and just as he knew who he was again, he would make sure he was never lost again. It wasn't something he could afford.

_"To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be the one destroyed."_ His father was right, of course he was right because if you loved, you would ultimately be hurt, and if you were loved the people who loved you would also be hurt. Jace couldn't let that happen. At every cost, he had to ensure that no one loved him, even if he decided to care for the people he now lived with, he would never demonstrated in an outward fashion.

Jace knew what he needed to do. There was no confusion, no doubt and most certainly nothing to hold him back from it.

Finally, Jace was free.

"Jace?"


	3. Pleasantries

Okaaaaays! This is the next installment of Breathe Again! Woohoo xD

Now, I know that the characters seemed a lot more mature than normal 10 year olds are but one must remember that they are Shadowhunters and they live in a world that is dark and menacing therefore they mature quickly.

**_Disclaimer!: _****I do NOT own TMI which means I don't own the characters or things that come out in any of the TMI books. What I DO own is the plot line and anything NOT mentioned in the books.**

_Music that inspired this chapter:__ My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light 'Em Up) by Fall Out Boy; Counting Stars by OneRepublic; When We Were Younger by You Me At Six; and Satellites by Sleeping With Sirens._

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Tension spread throughout Jace's body and locked his muscles into place. Obviously he knew whose voice it belonged to, just because he ignored everyone didn't mean he hadn't learned and registered the sound of their voices and usual tones. However, Jace hadn't considered that anyone would wake up seeing as they were all fairly heavy sleepers, but he could feel the heat of the sun burning his hands that now rested over the keys. Jace quickly, yet carefully, slammed the case shut and allowed his golden eyes to languidly shoot towards the door and meet with clouded blue ones.

Alec.

"Morning Cinderella." Jace smirked, standing up from the piano to stretch.

"Cinderella? Don't you mean Sleeping Beauty?" Alec was clearly confused due to lack of sleep. Everyone had fallen asleep late, save Jace as he _hadn't_ even slept yet, after having a family meal before Marsye and Robert left for Idris.

"Well, if you think you're beautiful don't let my remark taint that self-impression." Jace watched as the blush filled Alec's cheeks and caused him to look away and towards…the piano.

Great.

"I didn't know you played piano." Alec scrutinized Jace for a moment, walking forward and away from the threshold.

"Yeah, so?"

"What do you mean 'so'?"

"What is the point in mentioning something you don't know about me when I know you don't know seeing as I never mentioned it before so you wouldn't be able to know any other way." Even saying that slightly confused Jace, but more so it befuddled Alec.

"What?"

"Why did you come here?" Jace deflected the question with his own.

"I…came to look for you?" Alec's confusion extended to his own answer as his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

"Are you stating it or asking?" Jace smirked once again.

"Uhm…"

"You're not at your brightest in the morning, are you, Alec?" Jace chuckled and shook his head.

"I-um-what?"

Jace _tsk'd_ a few times before moving to the door, "Well, as amusing as this was, I think I'll go get some sleep."

"You haven't slept?"

Jace shrugged then disappeared through the door and down the hall. A small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips but he removed it from its place. He had to admit, though, his encounter with Alec lightened up his mood, or maybe it was the fact that he played the piano for Angel knows how long. It was a relieving task to play the piano after so long without touching a single key.

That settled it: He would play piano every night when they were all asleep.

Finally making it to his room, Jace shut the door behind him and stormed into his bathroom. He yanked the knobs to turn on the water and threw his clothes into the hamper before stepping in and indulging himself in a few minutes of nothingness. The hot water beat down against his golden skin and trailed down his body until it reached the tile of the shower and wiggled down the drain. Minutes passed by with a blur and nothing seemed relevant other than the soothing sound of water. These were the only moments in Jace's day where he was surrounded by _almost_ complete silence. Here, and up in the greenhouse but Hodge tended to stay _awake_ up there…during the day, that is.

_Knock, knock, knock_.

"Jace?"

"Well, there goes my silence." Jace shook his head and ignored the call, until it came again.

"Jace!"

With a groan, Jace walked out of the shower, turned the faucet off and wrapped a towel around his lower body before opening the door and glaring at Isabelle, "I _was_ showering, you know."

"I knocked," Isabelle shrugged trying to look nonchalant but Jace knew better; he smirked. The fact that he was in a towel made her feel uncomfortable; served her right for interrupting his shower like that.

"Doesn't change the fact that you interrupted my shower so you better have a good reason behind it." Jace pointed his slim index finger between Isabelle's dark eyes, making her cross-eyed for a split second before she smacked his hand out of her face and glared, her eyes boring into his own.

"Hodge is looking for you!" With a loud _humph_, Isabelle angrily stomped down the hall muttering under her breath.

Jace chuckled.

It was amusing getting a rise out of her, which wasn't technically that hard considering she had a short fuse; he shrugged. Oh well.

Not even five minutes later, Jace clomped down the hall with his black combat boots and clad black gear. Around his waist was a loosely held together weapons belt adorned by a twin daggers, two seraph blades (something he mastered last week and would proudly boast about it during the others' training), and a blade he managed to bring from home.

Jace sighed.

Home.

It wasn't that the Institute was horrible, on the contrary, even with Marsye and Robert gone almost all of the time, it felt somehow warmer than his childhood home did. But, the fact of the matter was that here Jace was a stranger. Here, no one knew him well enough to know when he was hurt or why he lashed out with sarcasm. Sure, sarcasm was hereditary, as were cryptic sayings, but no one _knew why _he said it or what he meant and that was hard. For one, it was hard because he still wasn't sure if he _wanted_ anyone to have the ability to decipher him; that went against his natural instincts; secondly, he was afraid of losing someone again and that was still unbearable to even contemplate; and lastly, Jace didn't want anyone to get to know him then push him away because he was broken.

Another sigh.

Now wasn't the time to be thinking these things, now was the time to talk to Hodge and see what he wanted. Hopefully, it was another assignment. An assignment would help keep his mind preoccupied and out of dangerous thoughts.

That being said, or in actuality, _thought_, Jace pushed the large doors to the library and walked in, inhaling the scent of old leather bound books, of dust and cold. He wasn't entirely sure how cold could have a scent, but when you inhaled you knew it was the scent of cold, or maybe it was just Jace that thought that. Who knew.

"Jace," A deep voice said from above.

"You called for me?" He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

"Ah," Hodge said, "yes, I did, as a matter of fact."

Jace looked up and saw the man who was now his instructor. His back was to Jace and he seemed to be reaching for a book on a higher shelf, a shelf he very well knew he wouldn't be able to reach without a ladder or the help of…someone…

Jace's eyes narrowed.

If Hodge had called for him just to grab a book from a shelf he couldn't reach, he'd pin the man to a wall with his feet hanging several feet over the ground.

"I have an assignment for you," Jace released his breath, "By the Angel, I cannot _see_ the book I want let alone _reach_ it." He grumbled, "Jace, could you assist me for a moment." Jace shook his head but made his way up the staircase.

"You know, Hodge, there are these things called ladders." Jace started; Hodge scowled.

"You don't say." He muttered.

Jace continued unfazed, "And _generally_, they're used when a person cannot reach a certain height they desire to. Now, I don't know about you, but I think one of those could be of use at this particular moment, don't you?"

Hodge shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, "Just get the book named '_Anathomen Daemonum'_."

Jace looked up and backed up slightly, allowing his eyes to scan across the spines of the leather bound books for the book Hodge asked for: Anatomy of Demons. He could only guess how long _that_ book took to write seeing as there were more demon species than any mundane ones, not that was any real comparison but the Nephilim species was an even rarer one than those of mundanes.

Either way, Jace finally came across the book and handed it to Hodge with an arched brow, "So, what's my assignment?"

Hodge held the book up and smiled, "Memorize all of the information here."

Jace's eyebrows shot up, "And when is this 'assignment' due, exactly?"

"Tomorrow."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the garden this morning." Jace snatched the book from Hodge's hand and ignored the stunned look on his face. He probably assumed no one knew he sometimes slept in the greenhouse but having stayed up almost every night for two weeks, Jace knew what others did not.

Heaving his body over the railings, Jace dropped down onto the wooden floor and made it to the door before Hodge spoke again, "You are so much like your father."


	4. Penitus

**Agh, this took me a good while to come up with but I have a pretty good feeling about it! Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER!: I do NOT own the TMI series! That is Cassandra Clare's! I only own whatever I made up ( i.e. places, characters, events) just as the plot line is mine!**

_Music that inspired this Chapter:__ This Love (Will Be Your Downfall) by Ellie Goulding; I'll Take You There by Sleeping With Sirens; Heads Or Tails? Real Or Not? by Emarosa_

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The walk down the hall was nothing spontaneous, there was no giant distraction or even a minor one, and at that moment a distraction was all Jace wanted. The memories of his father flooded his senses, taking claim over him and reducing him to a vessel of pain and suffering; it was unbearable. His vision blurred so that he was no longer walking towards the main entrance of the Institute but towards the entrance of his manor house, the house he spent his entire life in, save the past month.

Voices rose into his ears and for a moment Jace wasn't sure whether they were the voices of the men in his memory or someone calling him; not that he cared either way. Somehow Jace found himself in the middle of the street before more images took over his sight. How could he move past this when the simple word "father" made him choke.

Pathetic.

Jace angrily rubbed the base of his palms against his eyes and blinked several times, forcing his eyes to focus on the scenery before him at any costs. Once his senses returned, Jace's golden eyes landed on the snow covered grass of Central Park. Above him, the sun danced between the clouds teasingly shining its sunlight among the population before succumbing them into the frost. To his side there were a few pixies frolicking along with the snow flakes that fell towards the ground while to his left was a young girl walking quickly, her hands shoved into the front pockets of her jeans and visibly curdle up into fists. Her head was ducked and covered with a black hood. She wasn't fairly tall, actually, she might've barely been five feet tall, maybe a few inches taller than that and her body seemed fragile but by the way she held herself that didn't seem likely.

Hm.

Curiosity spiked within Jace, pushing him to follow the girl, at a distance, of course. The girl expertly swerved around the enormous mass of people headed in the opposite direction of her unknown destination that, had he not been Nephilim, he'd have lost her by now. As they walked, Jace observed the girl, noting the way she looked around quickly, but not in a way where he could actually see her face, and the way her shoulders would tense whenever got too close meaning she was defensive and seclusive.

They made it to a cross light and the red hand flashed as an indicator that it was not safe to walk forward; Jace paused. The girl, however, leapt down the sidewalk and ran across the street. Jace stared, stunned, before pushing against the people in front of him to move forward, his eyes never once leaving the girl as she continued running. He was almost free to run after her, just a few more people who stubbornly pushed back when her hood fell.

It might've been for a split second, but in that second, Jace saw enough. Her skin was as pale as the snow that surrounded them, her lips a dark shade of purple due to the cold while her cheeks were pinched with red. Above her sharp, high-set cheekbones were silvery eye-.

"Jace!" A voice shouted to his left; he mentally curse.

The girl turned around quickly, her eyebrows knitting together while her hands brought her hood up and over her head, covering her black hair, "Jace!" A hand landed on his forearm and, just like that, the girl was swallowed by the sea of people leaving a stunned Jace behind.

"Hello! Jace?! Anyone in there!" Cold spread through Jace the second he felt a cold finger touch his temple; Jace growled.

"Isabelle, what do you want?"

"I-" she paused, "I saw you and came to ask if you wanted to head home together."

Jace's eyes slid towards Isabelle and noted the bangs in her hands; he rolled his eyes and took the bags, "Yeah." He muttered, turning around without another word.

"Aren't you going to wait for Alec?" She thabbed her backward and Jace's golden eyes followed the direction it pointed to, his gaze landing on a struggling Alec caught in a croud of people; he inaudibly chuckled.

Jace faked a groan, "I suppose I have no other choice now, do I?"

Isabelle scowled and hugged her hot pink sweater to herself in an attempt to keep warm. Jace shrugged his own jacket off - not recalling how he even put one _on_ - and threw it to her, not in a romantic I-don't-want-you-to-be-cold-way but in a why-were-you-stupid-enough-to-wear-a-thin-sweater- and-leave-me-in-the-cold way. Isabelle blinked and glared at Jace but slipped the black leather jacket over her arms and visibly relaxed.

_Well, at least _she _wasn't cold_. Jace thought. He had to admit, though, he wasn't particularly cold even if the goosebumps over his tanned skin stated otherwaise. It was probably better to say that he didn't _feel_ the cold, but obviously he was cold.

Finally, Alec caught up with them and brushes the show that landed on the arm of his jacket with a scowl, "Can we hurry back to the Institute?"

"Yes, princess." Jace smirked and walked forward, Isabelle and Alec on either side of him.

"I'm not a princess," Alec muttered, "I just don't want to be in the snow."

"Says the one that took forever reaching us." Isabelle laughed lightly.

"That I entirely not my fault." A scowl deepened the line of Alec's lips while his eyes glared holes into the sidewalk's pavement.

Jace smirked, shook his head, and patted Alec on the back once, "Of course it isn't your fault," he used a tone one would normally associate with dealing with a pouty child, "Its obviously everyone else's fault for not knowing how to properly walk and let the princess through the crowd."

Alec's scowl deepened and he grumbled unintelligently; Isabelle snickered.

The rest of the way back to the Institute was filled with mindless chatter between Isabelle and Alec with occasional inserted taunts from the most part, though, Jace simply observed the two interact, smiling slightly when either of them would make the other angry because he knew they would let it go in the next minute. And for a moment, Jace wished he had a sibling to banter with and pick at because then he wouldn't be so alone. True, Isabelle and Alec pulled him into their conversations, clearly showing they weren't trying to leave him out but Jace decided to sit out many of their conversations for the plain and simple fact that he didn't entirely knew what they were talking about. Surprisingly enough, he didn't mind.

Somehow, the trio ended up at the mouth of their street, Isabelle and Alec staring at the Institute with conflicted eyes while Jace looked at it with a sort of comforting stare. From what Jace gathered, Alec and Isabelle didn't leave the Institute by themselves often, only when Marsye and Robert were away seeing as Hodge couldn't physically stop them the way their parents could so, in a way, Jace understood how they must've felt because he had felt the same way about his previous home; ironic.

"Aleeccc!" Isabelle whined loudly, "Let's go to Takis!"

"Izzy..." Alec sighed and shook his head, "You know Hodge said we had to be back in an hour and a half..."

"SO! I don't _want _to be confined to the Institute walls for HOURS! I'm hungry!"

"I get it, I do. But-"

"Why don't you make food?" Jace raised a brow, interrupting Alec mid-sentence.

"Uh...Jace..." Jace looked over at Alec, his golden eyes questioning the tone of his voice and noted the way he paled. Was he that cold?

"Yes, princess?"

"That's a GREAT idea Jace!" Isabelle ignored Alec and gripped Jace's arm, nearly yanking his arm from his shoulder in her attempt - successful attempt - to drag him into the Institute.

"I officially hate you, Jace." Alec walked behind them, grinning like an idiot at the Jace. Naturally, that didn't spike the best feeling inside of him.

The entire way into the kitchen, Isabelle blathered on about what she would be cooking: Lasagna and steamed veggies, apparently. Just the same, Alec laughed but covered it up with a cough, shaking his head at the confused look on Jace's face. With every cough covered laugh and new food idea Isabelle and Alec got the more Jace began to regret his outburst of an idea. Once inside the kitchen, though, Jace's bad feeling escalated. Isabelle ran around pulling pans out of the pantries and pasta out of boxes. She boiled water then loudly cursed when she boiled it for too long.

Giving up on a way to escape, Jace looked around the kitchen. The walls were a beige color with runes painted along the top half of the walls. Down the middle was a black boarder that separated the tile against the wall and the painted wall. It wasn't a massive kitchen, but it wasn't mall, either. All of the appliances were new and even had their new-ish shine. The two-door, stainless steel refrigerator was to the right of the entrance, across from the door were the mahogany cabinets and burgundy pantries. Atop the cabinets were the microwave, blender, sink, fruit holder, knife rack, and toaster while in the middle of the area was long, narrow like table with eight stools all around it, two occupied by Alec and Jace at the moment.

Half an hour later, with the oxygen in the kitchen thicker than a summer in the desert, Isabelle finally concluded her 'cooking' and placed three plates on the table; Alec quickly pushed his away, earning him a glare from Isabelle. Isabelle turned towards Jace with a smile and dumped a rectangularly looking piece of gunk, to say in the kindest way possible. The aroma wafted into Jace's nostrils and he almost gagged.

"What _is _this?" Jace spluttered, covering his nose. Alec howled in laughter; Isabelle smacked him with a spatula.

"Shut up," she glared at Alec, "Its lasagna! Taste it."

Jace shook his head.

"Taste it or so Help me I'll throw your favorite blade into the fire and bend it out of shape." Jace glared and looked down at the food, picking up his fork and stabbing the sorry excuse for lasagna.

"If I die, you're not allowed at my funeral." he muttered.

Alec and Isabelle stared at Jace, both with different expressions. One was of horror and the other delight but both didn't make the situation any better.

With a deep breath and a doubtful look at the piece of lasagna on his fork, Jace popped the item into his mouth.


End file.
